


All Things By A Law Divine

by Somniare



Series: Nothing In The World Is Single [1]
Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Episode s02e01 And The Moonbeams Kiss The Sea, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-28
Updated: 2012-05-09
Packaged: 2017-11-04 11:30:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somniare/pseuds/Somniare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robbie was invited to Hobson's birthday party.<br/>"If you'd like to bring anybody..."<br/>"Well I haven't really got anybody."<br/>"You could always bring the 'dishy' Sergeant Hathaway."<br/>Robbie, walking away, "Hathaway. Dishy?"</p><p>We know how the party went down but what happened after they left Professor Stringer’s.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dub-con due to being under the influence of alcohol, and the possibility drugs may be involved - I'm erring on the side of caution, don't want to risk upsetting or offending anyone.
> 
> Beta'd by the wonderful tetsubinatu and Gina
> 
> Disclaimer: Don't own them, just playing, promise to give them back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This started as a single story of just over 2,000 words. Then seeds were planted (and subsequently fed and watered) and Chapters Two and Three ‘grew’ all by themselves.

Duty done, thought Lewis as he ended the call to Laura.  He winced. Why did he think of attending Laura’s party as a ‘duty’?  
  
“Sir!”  He was thankful that James had ‘requisitioned’ a squad car to get them home, even if it risked a reprimand from Innocent.  They’d’ve had to wait ages for a taxi and the night was too bloody cold for standing around.   
  
 _He_ cannot _be comfortable._   Lewis tried to work out exactly how James had folded his long legs into the back of the car.  Squad cars were not really designed for men of Hathaway’s height.  Lewis much preferred to see James’s legs at their full length, ideally in full stride and from behind where he could also watch his arse.  The fact that James nearly always deferred to his seniority and rarely walked ahead was a daily source of frustration to Lewis.  If all he was allowed to do was look then he wanted make the most of his opportunities.  
  
  
  
James alternately thanked and cursed Professor Stringer’s prowler.  He was relieved to be away from the party, however, despite his voiced desire to leave, he would have gladly sat on that cold garden swing with Robbie for several hours.  He lay back as well as he could, resting his head against the back of the seat.  Perhaps drinking a bottle of champagne on an empty stomach hadn’t been the wisest thing to do but he _had_ been unhappy not to have Robbie to himself.  While he’d been relatively in control at the Professor’s house (thank heavens for walls to lean against) the full effect of the alcohol was hitting him now.   
  
Bold, reckless or just drunk, it didn’t matter; in the darkness of the car James studied Robbie openly, maintaining his scrutiny even when Robbie turned to him, returning his gaze.  _He could always blame it on the booze._    
  
It was still relatively early and James wasn’t quite ready to call it a night.  As the car drew up outside Robbie’s building he asked with a grin, “Any chance of a night-cap, sir?”  
  
“Aye, someone better get some water and coffee into you or you won’t be fit tomorrow.”  
  
Though his tone was gruff, James knew it was for the benefit of the PCs who’d brought them home.  He’d sensed Robbie also wasn’t quite ready to be alone this evening either.

 

***

 

James followed Robbie in and, as though on autopilot, Robbie immediately opened two beers; work was quiet, he could cover for James if the lad didn’t pull up okay in the morning.  He put one on the coffee table in front of James, before dropping next to him on the couch, shoulder to shoulder.  Anticipating a couple of quiet hours in James’s company, Robbie was stretching forward for the remote when he heard the oddest sound.  
  
Robbie eyes widened with alarm as he realised James had started to giggle.  _What on earth…?_  
  
“That’s what dogs do best.” James snorted  
  
“What?”  
  
Attempting to mimic Stringer, James sniggered, “‘I heard the neighbour’s dog barking’ and you…”  He took a deep breath to steady himself.  “…you said ‘that’s what dogs do best’.”  His last words were almost a shriek as the giggles hit him again and he curled himself up, his whole body shaking with laughter.  
  
Robbie started to wonder exactly how much James had really drunk and whether or not drink was all he’d had – they had been at a party of former medical students, after all.   He’s not going to complain though, he likes to see the lad relaxed and laughing; it’s such a rare sight.  And he’ll make him stay on the couch tonight, whether he likes it or not, just so he knows he’s safe.  
  
James’s good humour was infectious and Robbie soon found himself relaxing into the couch, laughing along for no good reason other than it felt good.   
  
As James struggled to pull himself back into a sitting position he reached out wildly with his right hand and unexpectedly grasped Robbie’s thigh.  Robbie reached across, taking hold of his other arm by the elbow.  James popped up faster than expected, and with Robbie also pulling him he ended up sprawled across Robbie’s lap.   
  
He lay there, giggling quietly to himself before wiping his eyes and attempting to push himself up.  Robbie, who had dissolved into laughter at the sight of his gangly Sergeant laid out on his lap, was no help at all.   
  
As James rose awkwardly, he twisted to look at Robbie and whooped, “'Rest of the guys in the band' – _your_ face!  Thought you were going to groan out loud.  God I would have loved to have heard that.”  Dropping his face back into the couch he went off in another fit of laughter, though this time he seemed to be slightly calmer.  
  
Robbie trembled at the thought of James making him groan out loud, blood rushing to several places at once.  If he get didn’t get James off his lap and regain some control they could both come to regret this evening.  
  
Carefully pulling James back and sitting him in the corner of the couch, Robbie looked for any signs that he might _really_ _be_ under the influence of something other than a bottle of champagne.  James looked up at him, biting his bottom lip, eyes wide, tears of mirth glistening on his lashes and cheeks.  Robbie’s frank appraisal stilled him and he roughly cleared his throat, rubbed his face and ran his hands over his head, smoothing down his hair as he took several deep breaths.  
  
Robbie turned towards the kitchen, striving to keep his tone light.  “Right, lad, s’been a long day and work tomorrow.  What d’you say to a cuppa and something to eat, then I’ll get you some blankets?”  
  
“I’ll just finish my beer sir, then I’ll get a taxi, get out of your way.”  All the laughing had left a breathiness in James voice that sent a shiver through Robbie.  
  
“Don’t be daft.  You’ll sleep here.  You can make breakfast in the morning and I’ll drop you at yours on the way.”  
  
“Yes, sir.”  James knew better than to argue and started to drain his beer.  A car backfired out front, startling him and causing him to spill the most of the liquid over his shirt.  
  
“Shit!”  He jumped up off the couch – and started to giggle again.  He bit his lip once more to gain control.  “Sorry, sir.  Got a towel?”  
  
Rolling his eyes and trying not to laugh, Robbie threw a tea-towel at him.  “Get your shirt off, dry yourself.  I’ll get you one of my jumpers.”   
  
Robbie walked off to the bedroom, listening to James’s movements, relieved that it sounded as though he was regaining his composure.  Laughing James was a delightful change, but hysterical James was something he didn’t want to contemplate.  
  
Though it took him only a minute or two, when Robbie returned with a jumper the feeling in the room had changed.  James had calmed and sunk down into the couch, his head resting on the back, eyes closed, long legs stretched out in front.  He had discarded his shoes, as well as his stained shirt which was now neatly folded on the coffee table.  Although the room was warm, James’s nipples were erect and Robbie gazed on his semi-naked Sergeant marvelling, not for the first time, at how beautiful he was.  Even in the harsh lighting of his flat, Robbie thought he looked like an angel, so serene was his expression now.  Well, they did say laughter was good for the soul.  
  
“If you’re just going to stand there and stare sir, could you turn up the heat a little?”  
  
 _Oh, I can turn up the heat_ , thought Robbie, _though probably not in the way you intend._  
  
  
  
When Robbie didn’t speak, James peered up at him through half-closed eyes only to see Robbie watching him with a longing that was echoed in his own heart.  
  
In for a penny, in for a pound, thought James and he lightly patted the seat next to him.  _Christ!_ James gave a start.  Robbie’s tongue had flickered quickly across his lower lip, _I’m not imagining this, I’m not!_   He had to force himself to keep his breathing steady.  If he was wrong, if he’d mis-read...  
  
  
  
Robbie, who had been holding his breath, closed his eyes and exhaled slowly and deeply.  Whatever James was offering, he would claim.   
  
With unusual grace Robbie sat slowly next to James, one leg folded under, shin pressed against thigh, his body turned towards James.  Robbie placed his hand on James’s thigh, watching his face for any sign, any clue.  This could go wonderfully right, or horribly, brutally wrong.  He watched the steady rise and fall of James’s chest.  Slowly he slid his hand up the muscular thigh and across his hip, bringing it to rest on James’s belly just below his navel.  He felt the small tremor under his fingers.  James kept his eyes closed, said nothing, remained still.  
  
Robbie swallowed hard, forcing down the fluttering in his chest, steadying his breathing.  The only other sound in the flat was the tick of the central heating, loud in the fullness of the silence surrounding them.  
  
Almost fearfully, Robbie’s hand began a careful ascent over James’s belly, towards to his chest.  Robbie watched, enthralled as the gooseflesh rose on James’s arms and chest and the muscle tremors under his palm increased.  As Robbie’s hand moved over his heart, James covered his hand with his own and lifted his eyes to meet Robbie’s.  The older man’s breath caught in his throat as he saw in their depths complete trust – and surrender.  
  
In one fluid movement James sat up straight and turned his body to mirror Robbie’s; he still held Robbie’s hand to his chest.  Keeping his eyes fixed on James’s adoring gaze, Robbie used his other hand to trace a line up the other side of James’s body, lightly brushing his nipple, skimming his collarbone and up the side of his neck, fingers tracing jaw and ear, coming to rest against his neck, his thumb continuing to brush his jaw.  James moved Robbie’s hand from his heart, gently pushing it down, over his belly, over his belt, pressing Robbie’s palm on to his hardness.  Only now did Robbie briefly look away, looking down, to see what _he_ had caused – and at James’s hands now lying quietly in his lap.  
  
He was deeply aroused by James’s submission.  Slipping one hand behind James’s neck, Robbie drew the lad to him, raising his head to take those full, soft lips with his own, while his other began to rhythmically stroke James’s erection through the rough denim.  James made soft noises into Robbie’s mouth as the kisses became more insistent, Robbie’s tongue pressing against his lips, seeking a way in.  James yielded, and slid one arm around Robbie, grabbing at his belt, not to draw them closer together but to anchor himself.  Robbie was gradually pressing James backwards, causing him to lie back against the couch, as he himself slowly rose up and over James.  He grappled with James’s belt, loosening it quickly, turning his attention to opening his jeans.  James returned the favour, allowing his hand to slide under jeans and boxers, clasping Robbie’s arse, pulling him downward.  James gasped as Robbie’s hand slipped down, brushing James’s now-exposed cock.  
  
“Sir?”  There was a plea in his tone.  
  
Robbie looked down at his very aroused, very flushed and panting Sergeant, afraid he had crossed an undrawn line.  
  
James gazed at him with complete adoration and trust.  “Bed, sir?”  
  
A small nod.  “Bed, James.”

 

***

 

With his long limbs wrapped around Robbie, James tucked his chin in to the hollow between Robbie’s neck and shoulder and whispered, “Nothing in the world is single, / All things by a law divine / In one another’s being mingled – / Why not I with thine?”  
  
Lewis smiled thoughtfully, the smile reaching his eyes as rolled them at James.  With a soft huff he asked, “A’right, who’s that then?”  
  
“Oh, just one of the guys in the band.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the wee small hours of the morning after the night before there are regrets, doubts, fears and self-recriminations.
> 
> (With thanks to kapakoscheisigma for planting the seed – hope this doesn’t disappoint.)

Robbie watched the slow rise and fall of James’s side as he slept.  As James had drifted off, Robbie had untangled himself from those long limbs and James, who had curled himself into a ball, eventually rolled to his other side, his back to Robbie.   
  
There was to be no sleep for Robbie as he turned over the events of the evening, guilt rising within, threatening to overwhelm him.  He had never, ever taken advantage of anyone sexually before tonight.  Yes, he’d been drinking too, but nowhere near enough to excuse what had happened.  The casualness of it all played on his mind as well; he’d never been a person who just ‘fell in to bed’ with someone – it felt ... tawdry.  
  
Oh, God, this was _James_ ; what was it about James that made him overstep his own line – the trust, the surrender?  Had James really submitted or had he _wanted_ it to be submission, tacit consent.  And how was he going to apologise to James?  This wasn’t something easily forgiven, if at all.   
  
They’d been together around two years now, a more than ample period of ‘getting to know you’.  And, being honest with himself (and he’d have to be honest with James) there’s no way he could or would argue that this was a spur of the moment thing.  He’d been watching James almost as long as James had been watching him, watching and wondering.  But still, James _hadn’t_ been sober and he _had_ taken advantage.  What troubled him most was the deep knowledge that he definitely wanted more from James, that he didn’t want this to be a one-off.  He was also sickeningly aware that he may have ruined the possibility of anything more, that he had in all probability ruined _everything_.   
  
And for what?  An hour or so of kissing, groping and fumbling. James had started to giggle again, and Robbie had silenced him by literally taking him in hand and getting him off, smothering his groans with deep kisses.  James had fallen asleep almost instantly, though briefly – there was barely enough time for Robbie to meet his own need before James had roused himself and enveloped him, whispering poetry in his ear.  
  
 _In one another’s being mingled –_  
Why not I with thine?  
  
He had seen James’s adoration for him in the way James watched him when he thought he wasn’t looking, the increasing physical contact – often merely a brief touch to the elbow or shoulder – and in the little things he did, like making his tea just right every time.  He’d heard whispers around the station about James ‘sleeping his way to the top’; he could have stomped on them but realised that that would probably fuel the rumours as much, if not more, as saying nothing – the whole “does protest too much” business.  Some days he really hated Shakespeare.   
  
Oh, James had seemed happy enough – actually Robbie would have said he was in a state of bliss – and _no-one_ had ever quoted poetry to Robbie in bed before.  But it was just the alcohol, of this he was sure; for all his adoration Robbie couldn’t image James _really_ wanting him.   
  
Christ! They’re going to have to talk – if James is even willing to talk to him when he’s sober.  
  
He watched James sleep.

 

***

 

James, in fact, slept very little.  He could sense Robbie watching him and wondered, not for the first time that evening, what he was thinking.  He wanted to roll over and ask him now as he was fairly sure Robbie was awake; people don’t sigh in their sleep, do they?  One small nagging doubt caused him to hesitate – how would Robbie react when he knew James hadn’t been as drunk as he appeared, that he, James, had lied to him.  Yes, he’d been drunk – he would never have exposed himself as much, physically or emotionally, as he had if he hadn’t been drunk – but not so drunk that he couldn’t make a rational decision.  His carefully constructed walls were designed with impenetrable gates for which only he had the key; it was his ‘precious’ to be guarded, only given to those who were worthy.  He had been certain of Robbie for some time, and just as certain that even if he were interested, as James believed, he wouldn’t do anything.  
  
If someone were to pin him down, ask him why on earth he wanted someone like Robbie – approaching sixty, widowed, not exactly in his prime – James had his answer, as enigmatic as him: Robbie Lewis was Robbie Lewis.   
  
For all Robbie spoke of not having a faith, of dismissing God, he was, as far as James was concerned, more godly than many he had met along the way.  He thought of the verse from Galatians, “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control”; though joy and peace had been in short supply in Robbie’s life in recent years, the rest, to James, summed up the Robbie he had grown to love and desire.  Oh, he wasn’t perfect, no-one was, but Robbie knew when he’d overstepped the mark and the apology, sincere and thought through, would follow.  He was essentially a ‘good’ man, a rare man, and James knew he would do _anything_ to make him happy.  
  
James had been betrayed too often in his life, including by his once beloved church.  Above everything else, he hungered for faithfulness, loyalty and trust.  These he knew he could give to the right person _if_ he had the courage to be honest, bare himself and allow himself to receive.  But because he was so damn scared of rejection and terrified of being wrong, he had deceived the one person whose trust he craved above all others.  He hadn’t had faith in his own beliefs about Robbie, good, kind, honest Robbie, and had probably buggered everything up with one foolish act.

***

 

Robbie held his breath. _Did James just groan?  Is he awake?  Dreaming – no, nightmare most likely._  
  
If he was awake Robbie had to talk to James now – he couldn’t wait for morning.  There was nothing else for it; he reached out, placing his hand gently on James’s shoulder.  
  
James jumped at the touch and sat up abruptly, his eyes wild.  
  
 _Shit_ ,thought Robbie, _he’s going to bolt._  
  
  
  
Fuck, fuck, fuck,James couldn’t get his brain to work.  
  
  
  
“Oh God, James...”  
  
“Sir, I’m sorry, I’m...”  
  
They froze, staring at each other in the dimness of the room.   
  
James pulled himself into a tight ball, hugging his knees to his chest, tucked his head down and began to rock back and forth, whimpering, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry...”  
  
Robbie reached out to him, stopping just short of resting his hand on James’s back.  
  
“James, God, James, _you’ve_ nothin’ to be sorry for, lad.  I should’ve known, damn it, I did know better, I knew you were drunk, I shouldn’t’ve kept goin’, I should’ve stopped, James I’m...”  
  
James cut him off, speaking over the top, almost sobbing.  
  
“No, no, no, sir, you don’t understand – I wasn’t, well I was, but not as...” James paused and looked into Robbie’s eyes.  “I was capable of saying ‘stop’ at any time.  I, I ... lied, tricked you.  I’m sorry.  I know you would never...you’re...”  He dropped his face into his hands.  “I knew you’d never do anything unless ... but I wanted, oh fuck, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”  
  
Robbie said nothing, just continued to stare at James.  
  
With a deep breath James lifted his head again and turned to Robbie, his voice steady.   
  
“I’m sorry for the lie.  I’m sorry I’ve compromised you.  But I’m not sorry for what happened and I’d do it again in heartbeat.  But if you want me to leave....”  
  
  
  
Robbie’s face was unreadable, and that scared James more than any amount of yelling or abuse ever could.  When Robbie spoke his voice was low and James could hear the confusion in it.  
  
“You lied?  You lied to _me_?”  
  
James threw the covers back and swung his legs over the side of the bed.  Robbie grabbed his arm and spoke as roughly.  
  
“Wait.  Just wait a minute.  Just.  Wait.”  
  
James’s arm felt cold against the warmth of Robbie’s hand and he felt himself shaking.  
  
“Why, James?”  
  
The pain in Robbie’s voice cut James to the core.  James stared into the darkness, his back to Robbie, unable to look at this face.  
  
"I was ... I was afraid, if I was wrong, you’d ... hell ... I’ve wanted you for months ... it was _stupid_ ... I thought ‘what the hell’ ... if you weren’t ... if you didn’t _want_ me ... I figured you’d chuck the jumper at me and that would be it ... we could blame it on the booze, never speak of it again ..."  
  
A long silence followed, their breathing the only sound.  James turned his head slightly, enough to see Robbie out of the corner of his eye.  Robbie was staring at his hand which still gripped James’s arm, his brow creased in thought.  Slowly his hand dropped away and he raised his head slightly to look at James’s profile.  James glanced away.  Robbie spoke softly.  
  
“James, have I ever given you cause not to trust me?  Please tell me if I have.”   
  
James hung his head, his answer not much louder than a whisper, the truth in it ringing clear.  
  
“No.  Never.  You’re the one person I trust implicitly.”  
  
“Then .. why? ...”  
  
“I don’t trust me.  I was ashamed.  I couldn’t believe you would want me and I didn’t want you to send me away.”  
  
James moved to get out of the bed and once again Robbie held him back.  
  
“Send you away?  Never.  Not want you?  Who _wouldn’t_ want you?”  
  
James frowned at him. _Was Robbie taking the piss?  No, he wouldn’t do that._  
  
  
  
Robbie tried to explain.  He relaxed his grip on James’s elbow and started to gently stroke the inside of his forearm.  
  
“You’re bright, a bloody good copper, you’re not afraid to speak your mind, Laura would agree you’re easy on the eyes” – James blushed – “and you’re kind – don’t give me that look – you’ve been kind to me.  Oh yeah and you’re a smart arse an’ all, but your _my_ smartarse.”  
  
  
  
James shifted on the bed turning to face Robbie.  For the first time he felt the coolness in the room and pulled the blankets around him.   
  
He was bewildered.  “You’re not angry?  I deceived you, I tempted you to do something you wouldn’t have done otherwise.”  His frown threatened to leave permanent marks.  Looking into Robbie’s eyes, he continued softly, “You’re supposed to be angry.”  
  
There was a pause as Robbie considered his answer, holding James’s gaze.  
  
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed, but I’m more angry at me.  You do know, don’t you, that if you hadn’t been there the day I came back to Oxford I would have packed it all in by now.  Christ knows where I’d be, but it certainly wouldn’t be here, looking at another shot at being happy.  I am looking at that, aren’t I, or have I buggered that up?”  
  
James felt as though he had been spun around like a top as he absorbed what Robbie had said.  He glanced down as Robbie moved his fingers from James’s wrist to carefully take hold of his hand, before meeting his eyes again.  
  
“No, sir.  Not buggered.  If you want me, I’m here.  Yours.”  
  
Robbie watched James’s face carefully.  
  
“How you feeling now?”  
  
“Brutally – wonderfully – sober, sir.”  
  
Robbie tugged at James’s hand, drawing James towards him.  The kiss was brief, chaste.  
  
“Sleep, James, we’ve got a full day to face, and then ...”  
  
  
  
James’s smile told him he didn’t need to finish the sentence.  
  
There was some awkwardness as they lay down together trying to find the best position, eventually spooning as Robbie embraced James.  
  
As sleep started to overtake him, Robbie had one last thought.  
  
“James?”  
  
“Mmmmm?”

 

“All that laughing, was that...?”  
  
“Oh, that.  That was real enough, that _was_ the champagne.  I don’t think I could fake that if my life depended on it.”

*****

 

CS Innocent, having scolded them for their ‘drunk and facetious’ behaviour at Professor Stringer’s, was curious.   
  
“Was it a good party?”  
  
With a brief glance at Robbie, James, straight-faced, replied, “Compared with what?”  
  
Innocent rolled her eyes as she walked away. “Serves me right for asking!”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Robbie tugged at James’ hand, drawing James towards him. The kiss was brief, chaste._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _“Sleep, James, we’ve got a full day to face, and then ...”_
> 
>  
> 
> A new chapter because Gina wanted to know what happened the next day.
> 
> The day starts with a body in the library. The investigation keeps the dynamic duo busy and focussed on other things, but Robbie’s given James an unspoken promise...

The call to the Bodleian came at a fortuitous time.  Robbie had been concerned that a day stuck in the office could become, well, dangerous.  He and James still had a lot to talk through, though he wasn’t at all sure that James was interested in talking. 

 

*****

 

He thought back to how James had woken him that morning.  He’d been dreaming – though he couldn’t remember exactly what – and was gradually roused from sleep in the awareness that he was tingling, as if a weak electrical current was passing over his body.  He’d opened his eyes to find James lying on his side, watching his face.  The tingling was the effect of James lightly brushing his fingertips over his face, neck and down across his chest in broad, flickering sweeps.  James had stopped when he realised Robbie was watching him, his fingers coming to rest over Robbie’s heart.  
  
Robbie had been surprised – and a wee bit embarrassed – to find himself growing hard and wondered how long James had been caressing him. He was also in desperate need of a pee and if he got any harder that was going to become difficult and painful.  Taking hold of James’s hand, he’d leant across and given him a small, quick kiss at the side of his mouth before getting out bed as quickly as his back would let him, grabbing his robe and dashing for the loo, willing his erection to die.   
  
When he’d finally returned to the bedroom, the bed had been stripped and partially remade, and James was dressed and standing by the bed looking dishevelled, awkward and a little lost.  
  
“Sir, I, erm, I thought perhaps, ah ...”  His voice had trailed off as he looked down at the floor.  
  
Without a word Robbie had gone to him, carefully cradled his face with both hands, lifted his head slightly and kissed him soundly.  Robbie felt the tension fall away from James as he returned Robbie’s kisses eagerly and brought his hands to rest on Robbie’s hips.   
  
Robbie whispered into James’s mouth, “Trust me, James?”  
  
James had simply nodded, face flushed, eyes bright.  
  
Robbie had showered and dressed while James made tea and toast, then Robbie had dropped James at his place, as he said he would.

*****

 

 _“A body in the library.”_   Robbie smiled and shook his head at the memory – at least James now appeared to be his usual self, cheeky sod.  He had been concerned that he would be, at the very least, distracted.  There were several lines of enquiry to be followed so it was ‘divide and conquer’.  They met up briefly to speak to Mrs Chapman and again to her brother, Mick Jeffreys.   
  
There were still more enquiries to make but it had been a long morning and they were both in need of a rest.  No-one would blame them for having a small break.  
  
“Pint, James?”  
  
As both Mrs Chapman and Jeffreys had indicated that Chapman had sought some sort of help for his gambling addiction, Robbie chose to use the time to make enquiries about Gamblers Anonymous.  James, clearly only half listening to Robbie’s side of the conversation, occupied himself by making what Robbie assumed were notes on the case.  When he gestured to James for the notepad and pen he briefly glanced at what James had been writing before taking down the contact information he needed.  Something caught in the back of his mind and before he returned the pad to James he flicked back to look.  
  
 _Nothing in the world is single,_  
 _All things by a law divine_  
 _In one another’s being mingled –_  
 _Why not I with thine._  
  
They were the words James had whispered to Robbie after they’d ...  The pub suddenly felt too warm to Robbie.  He shivered lightly when James’s fingers brushed his as he handed the notebook back. He avoided looking at James for fear of what he might publicly give away.

 

***

 

As they headed towards the college to speak with Professor Walters, Robbie couldn’t help but notice that he and James walked perfectly in step, despite the extra length in James’s limbs.  It wasn’t the first time Robbie had noticed this but it was the first time he’d really thought about it.  He and Val always walked in step – except when they’d had a row – and he wondered if everyone did it or was it a ‘couples’ thing.  James would probably know, however Robbie felt this wasn’t the time or place to ask – maybe later. 

 

***

 

Having received Professor Walters’s agreement to pass on the details of Reg Chapman’s sponsor, Robbie held his breath as James answered the Professor’s query of “anything else?” with “I have a facetious question” – was it simply Robbie’s mind working overtime or was James just a little more mischievous than usual today?  _Ah, where’s the harm?  Just as long as it doesn’t affect his work – or garner another complaint._

 

***

 

They spent the last part of the afternoon back in the office.  While James watched the clock, Robbie watched James, remembering the feel of his body under him, the smoothness of his skin.  He wondered if James would be as responsive to his touch tonight.  He’d had some concerns, mostly about being caught out before anything was settled between them, and was pleased with himself for  deliberately minimising their time together today.  He’d also been afraid he’d see a change of heart in James, a cooling off now that he had seen what Robbie had to offer.  He’d missed the small touches and looks that had become a part of his every day and was grateful for that small moment in the pub.  
  
Everything had seemed so certain this morning.  
  
  
  
James could see Robbie’s reflection in the monitor and knew he was being studied.  He’d been relieved to be sent off on separate enquiries as he’d found it harder and harder to not touch Robbie when they were together.  This day had dragged interminably and he felt like he’d been going in circles.  He found it hard to read Robbie’s expression and just wanted to get out of there and back to Robbie’s where he could freely study him, touch him.  
  
“Time for home, James?”  
  
That was the sweetest thing James had heard since arriving at work.

 

***

 

 

Though nothing had been said, James had packed an overnight bag and a full set of work clothes.  He sat in his car outside Robbie’s debating whether to take them in or leave them in the car.  What kind of impression did it give?  What impression did he _want_ it to give?  He jumped in his seat when his mobile rang, and began cursing Oxford’s criminal element before noticing the caller ID read ‘Lewis’.  
  
“Sir?”  
  
“Are you coming in or not?  I’m too old to consider doin’ anythin’ in a car and certainly not out front of me own place.”  
  
James could hear the smile in his voice and began to relax.  _You stupid bastard, James Hathaway – you leapt in feet first last night._   “On my way.”  
  
  
  
Robbie took in the holdall and suit bag James held in front of him like a shield.  _Bloody hell._   He smiled at James and watched happily as the nervousness left his eyes.  
  
“Pop ‘em in there if you want.”  He indicated his bedroom.  “There should be room in the wardrobe for your suit.  Drink?”  
  
“Right.  Thanks.  Erm, any chance of a cuppa?”  
  
Robbie wasn’t sure he’d heard right, “You want _tea_?”  
  
“Thought it might be best if I stayed sober, sir, though I wouldn’t want you to ...”  
  
“Tea it is, James, and can you try to call me Robbie?  Here, any road?”  
  
“No, sir.”  
  
“ _Eh_?”  Robbie looked down the passage as James stepped out of the bedroom.  
  
“I’d rather call you ‘sir’, sir.”  Robbie stared in astonishment as James continued.  “If I stick to calling you ‘sir’, then there’s less chance of me calling you Robbie – or, God forbid, anything more unprofessional – at work or in public.  You’ve called me James, Hathaway, Jim – which I don’t like by the way – or Sergeant.  I’ve always called you sir or Inspector Lewis.”  
  
Robbie frowned then straightened up and blinked. “And just how long have you been thinking about this, _Jim_?”  
  
“For some considerable time...” James cocked his head to one side and grinned. “ _Inspector Lewis_.”  
  
With two strides James was upon Robbie, who pulled himself up to his full height as James backed him against the wall.  James left little space between them as he took Robbie’s hands in his own, his face now solemn.  He placed light, feathery kisses on Robbie’s forehead before dipping his head slightly and tracing a line down the side of his face and neck and on towards the base of his throat.  Robbie couldn’t decide which was more deliciously torturous – the light brush of lips and tongue or the warmth of James’s breath – all he knew was that his heart was racing, his legs trembling and the blood rushing to his groin.  And he didn’t want James to stop.   
  
James released one hand and slid his arm behind Robbie as he pressed him against the wall and brought their bodies together: Robbie used his now freed hand to hold onto James.  Robbie wasn’t alone in his arousal, and James bent his knees slightly causing their cocks to be pressed firmly together.  Just as Robbie was trying to regain some control of his senses James started to move, rocking himself against Robbie while his mouth now sought out Robbie’s lips.  
  
Robbie fought to get his voice back – he had _not_ expected this from James.  A couple of drinks, a takeaway, and another grope and fumble session had been his best hope: that James had taken the initiative was only fuelling his desire and increasing his need.  Though lean and long-limbed, Robbie was discovering that James was strong; he was in fact supporting both himself and Robbie as the latter had practically given up trying to stay upright on his own feet.  
  
“James, James, pet,” Robbie panted.  
  
  
  
James, keeping his hips in place, drew back slightly his eyes flicking over Robbie’s face.  He took in the wide eyes and lips red from being kissed, the faint pink of stubble rash on cheeks and chin and a general overall look of hot, flustered and very, very aroused.  With one arm around his waist, the other still holding his hand, James made to draw Robbie towards the couch.  Robbie hesitated, pushing back against the wall.  James looked at him curiously then back at the couch before tugging gently at his hand and waist again.  James tilted his head slightly to one side, a frown beginning to crease his forehead. _What is Robbie playing at?  Have I missed something?_   Robbie finally managed to produce a harsh whisper;  
  
“No couch.  Bed?  Me back...”  
  
The lines left James face as the gentlest of smiles replaced the frown.  With a small nod he led Robbie towards the bedroom, trying desperately not to laugh with delight or even smile too broadly at the look of complete shock and amazement on Robbie’s face.  _I did that._  
  
  
  
The room was softly lit from the passage light so – to Robbie’s relief – James left the light off.  He felt a flash of shame at the thought; he had manhandled James under the glare of full light and now wasn’t prepared to submit himself to the same.  Because he knew that was exactly what he was going to do – submit himself completely to James.  And it excited him and scared the hell out of him.  
  
James sat Robbie on the side of the bed before kicking off his shoes and climbing onto the bed to kneel at Robbie’s back.  From behind he removed Robbie’s belt before untucking and unbuttoning his shirt.  All the while he left a trail of warm shocks on Robbie’s skin as he kissed his neck, his shoulders, his throat, his tongue tracing the line of Robbie’s collarbone.  Robbie closed his eyes and tilted his head back so that it rested against James’s shoulder behind him.  James claimed the now exposed throat, running the tip of his tongue from under Robbie’s chin down to the sensitive hollow, scraping over stubble and sending shivers through Robbie’s entire body.  
  
James brought his lips up to Robbie’s ear, his voice barely a whisper. “Lie down.”

 

 

***

 

James wrapped himself around the sleeping Robbie.  Things had progressed very quickly once Robbie was lying down and James realised that Robbie was offering himself as completely as James had done the previous night.  The trust implied shook James to the core and pushed his hunger for Robbie to a new level.   
  
Clothes had been swiftly shed and James had freely explored with hands and mouth: Robbie hadn’t been completely passive though, with James’s enthusiasm propelling him to rediscover James’s delights.  Using his hands and a knee, James had gradually pushed Robbie’s legs apart, starting at his knees and nudging his way up until Robbie was spread open beneath him.  James had moved himself between Robbie’s thighs and lowered his body, making contact from thigh to chest.   
  
The look of uncertainty that had flashed across Robbie’s face caused James to pause.  He held himself up so he could see Robbie’s eyes, and waited and watched, looking for any sign of permission to continue.  He’d felt Robbie’s body relax beneath him just before Robbie spoke, his voice low and rough.  
  
“S’okay James, just ... just new, that’s all ... different ... keep goin’.”  
  
James laid soft kisses first on Robbie’s closed eyes then his cheeks, jaw line and finally his mouth as he began to thrust his cock against Robbie’s, slowly at first, finding the right pressure and rhythm.  He let Robbie’s responses guide him, the soft moans giving way to ragged breaths as Robbie whispered his name over and over.  With a small cry Robbie came hard, clutching James to him as the spasms ripped through him.  Within a few strokes James also came, his semen mixing with Robbie’s, wet and sticky.  Breathing heavily, James grinned when he raised his head to see that Robbie was out cold – ‘le petite mort’ – and it was his doing.  Trying not to move too far, James managed to find his boxers and used them to clean up as best he could.  Throwing the boxers to the floor, he drew the covers around them both and nuzzled into Robbie’s neck.   
  
 _Nothing in the world is single._

 

***

 

Here in this place he was safe.  Here, with Robbie, his ‘sir’, James’s demons were held at bay.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Realised quite late that I had created a bit of a paradox for myself by setting ‘All Things By A Law Divine’ _before_ ‘Life Born of Fire’. That is a crucial piece of James history that Lewis is yet to learn, something that would certainly have tempered his response to James. It also makes the “Are you gay?” conversation a bit redundant – or does it? I think there’s another fic in there.

**Author's Note:**

> James quotes from _Love’s Philosophy_ by Percy Bysshe Shelley
> 
> The fountains mingle with the river  
> And the rivers with the ocean,  
> The winds of heaven mix forever  
> With a sweet emotion;  
> Nothing in the world is single,  
> All things by a law divine  
> In one another’s being mingled –  
> Why not I with thine.
> 
> See the mountains kiss high heaven,  
> And the waves clasp one another;  
> No sister flower would be forgiven  
> If it disdain’d its brother;  
> And the sunlight clasps the earth,  
> And the moonbeams kiss the sea –  
> What are all these kissings worth,  
> If thou kiss not me?


End file.
